Ready, Aimee, Fire!
by Aimee Rawrz
Summary: Aimee is a regular 19 year old girl with a difficult past. When her genius brother invents a time machine, and she goes back in time and meets the Beatles, what will happen? Will she find love?
1. Chapter 1

**OLA! I am Aimee, and this fanfiction you are reading as of currently is Ready, Aimee, Fire! Because in this fic, I am doing a plot line with my name in it, but the OC is not like me. So yeah. **

**SO, there are agazillion fics about this already, but I want to do this, so leave me alone! :P Don't like, don't read. Sounds annoying, but it's true. **

**DISCLAIMER: Yo mamma!**

**THIS CHAPTER IS THE PRELUDE! IT EXPLAINS THE CHARACTER! NEXT CHAPTER IS WHERE THE REAL STORY IS!**

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><p><span>Aimee's POV, Reaccounting her life's past events...<span>

Hey, I'm Aimee.

I am 19 years old, and I come from a family of 3. My crazy over-protective dad, my genius 23 year old brother, and then there's me.

Just Aimee.

I like to thing myself relatively normal, though my brother would beg to differ. He says I'm weird, what with my obsession of the Beatles, but I just sock him in the head and he shuts up.

Anyways, I live in America. Not even in a really cool place like LA or New York City or Phili or anything. I live in some random Pennsylvanian town where no one knows the name of it. Our town is really small, and if you blink, you miss it. It's not anything nice. It's actually kind of broke down. But, never the less, we are pretty much the richest people in town. My dad is a big shot producer type person. I know you're probably thinking, 'Why this place if he's rich?'

Because this is where he met my mother.

Last year, my mom went to the grocery store. She was going the speed limit. She was stopping at stop signs. She was rounding corners carefully. Somehow, she didn't see this big truck with a drunk driver and got hit on her side of the car, knocking her unconcious.

So, the guy gets out and staggers over to her. When he sees her, he thinks she's dead and decides then to pull out a gun and shoot himself in the head, going clean to his brain.

How do I know this, you ask?

Because I was there.

I was in the back seat of my mothers car, and witnessed the death of two people, one was the person who had given birth to me.

I was traumatized when I saw the gashes in my mother from where the metal of the car had come in contact with her already fragile skin. I had never seen her like this before- So weak, unmoving. My mother was always moving, always doing something. She was never one to just sit there and be lazy. She had ADHD, but she didn't show it, because she was always directing her energy to helping others. She always said being wealthy meant giving to the poor and needy.

So you can imagine the hatred I already held for this guy that just made my mother this way. But then, when he got out of his vehicle and walked to my mom's side of the car, I wasn't feeling hatred. I wasn't feeling anger. I wasn't feeling _pity,_ for sure. No, what I was feeling right then I'll never forget. I felt genuinely _scared._

Then the guy pulled out the gun, and I thought my life was going to end right there. But no. The guy shot himself.

_He _shot _himself_.

I was now feeling alot of different emotions, that I don't care to recall. I was, more than anything, feeling completely alone. My mother, my only source of protection, was unconcious. And the guy who had made her that way killed himself. I was alone.

That is, until the police came.

The police pried the car door open with the jaws of life and eased me out of the car. They didn't say anything. I didn't say anything. No one needed to. The situation was so much for me, and I was feeling so many emotions, my body shut down.

I didn't eat, sleep, drink, walk or even speak for the next few days. How could I? I was so traumatized. The only thing that kept me from dying, was my mother. I had to know she was safe. I had to know she was alive. I had to.

My father tried to be there for me as much as he could, but from what I've been told, my brother, Rilee, was the one that stayed with me most.

Then, after a week of my mother being on life support, and 3 days after my eating regulated and I joined planet earth again, the doctors gave my dad a choice.

Pull the plug, or she will be in a coma for the rest of her life.

Dad, Rilee, and I held a family meeting. I knew my mother wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want to just be lying there. She would much rather be doing something, ANYTHING, in heaven.

So, that night, we gathered in the hospital room my mother was staying in and said our goodbyes. I could go into detail about what all we said, but that would be uneccessary. The emotion was really all that was speaking.

My dad walked up to her and kissed her forehead. He didn't go into a speech. He just simply said 'bye'.

Rilee's famous O'Hare temper was rising, I could tell. He didn't show it much, though. He glanced over at me and saw how I was staring at my mothers beautiful face, and closed his eyes. He tried to blink back tears as he walked over to our mother and hugged her frail body. He whispered something and then backed away.

It was my turn.

How do you thank someone for always being there? How do you express your love for someone who isn't awake to hear your words? How do you tell someone goodbye who's already out the door?

You can't, really. You kind of just have to pray to God that they'll somehow hear you. So I did.

I walked up to her, and took her hand and pressed her palm against my face, wishing she was concious so she could stroke my messy hair back. But she wasn't. So, I mustered up the courage and said one simple word.

"Bye."

I didn't cry. I didn't smile. I didn't do anything. I just sat there, pressing her palm against my cold cheek.

A nurse walked in, but I didn't notice. I faintly felt my brother pull me away and pick me up, walking to the car and buckling me in like a baby. I knew we were driving home, but I didn't feel anything.

I don't remember how I ended up in my bed, but I was there. And I was having a nightmare. Everything that happened to my mother, happened in my dream. I could see the blood, I could see the reflection of the sun on the windowshield as the drunken driver pulled out into the small car. I heard the gun shot...

I woke up screaming, and Rilee came into my room, taking me into his bed and tucking me in.

I realized as I was lying there, my mother wouldn't want me being like this. She would want me to be happy.

And if my mom wanted me to do something, I was going to do it. And this was no exception.

I could never forget my mom. But I could move on with my life.

And I went to sleep, my brother sitting on the bed beside me, rubbing my back comfortingly.

"I let go," I whispered into the darkness.

"What?" My brother asked, confused.

"I let go... I'm not going to hold onto this hurt I have anymore, Riles... I'm letting go of this grudge."

Rilee said nothing, instead leaning over to hug me and whisper good night.

I closed my eyes and gave way to the darkness.

Current time, Aimee's POV

I woke up to the sound of my brother banging on something in his 'lab' in the basement. We had just finished moving from our old house in West Virginia, where my mom died, to Pennsylvania.

I groaned and shoved a pillow over my head to block out the banging.

To no avvail, however.

So, I got up and walked down to the basement, still in my short plaid shorts and 'Canada, eh!' sweatshirt. I entered into the basement and rubbed my eyes to rid them from the sleep.

"Riles, really? This early?" I rambled on a bit more before I noticed he was doing jazz hands at this telephone-booth type thing. "Riles...?"

"It's a teleportation device!" He said excitedly. He then began to flip through some switches. "Now, when the zombie apocolypse occurs, I can escape death by this baby!"

I shook my head. "First, that's impossible. Second, were you watching I Am Legend again?"

He dropped his head.

"That's what I thought." I sighed. "Dude, dad _told_ you not to watch that, because you go on invention sprees on how you could possibly save the world." I crossed the basement over to a rack with several gadgets on it. "Shall we refer to the rack of shame, perhaps? Let's begin with the zomblaster." I picked up a large gun-looking thing. "A shot to the head with this thing, you'll be zombie free, guaranteed!" I smiled a cheesy newscaster smile and then frowned, setting the gun back on the shelf. "Now, how about the-"

"Okay! I get it!" He yelled, grumbling something under his breath. "Will Smith just did a really fantastic job in that movie. Honestly, he made it so _real_!"

I sighed. "Willl Smith was really good in that movie, I'll admit." We stood there, both reminiscing in the amazing skills of Will Smith. "Anyways, this thing probably doesn't even work."

"Yes, it does."

"Not." I finished, smirking.

"Yes, it does!"

"_Not!_" I put my hands on my hips stubbornly.

He contemplated arguing with me, but then gave me a smug smile. I hated those smiles. They were the smiles he always had when he realized it was his turn for the toy in the cereal box, or his turn to sit up front, or his turn to pick what tv show to watch next. Or when he graduated college...

"What?"

He shrugged, still wearing his smile. "Why don't you try it, then? If you're so sure it doesn't work, get in there and try it."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're on."

He gave me a smirk and then opened the door. "What year?"

I thought for a moment before getting an idea. "1964."

"Why?"

"Dur, the Beatles."

He rolled his eyes and then typed in the number. He then cranked the machine and kicked it with his foot. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, still unconvinced.

That is, until I felt an earthquake.

I felt myself shaking and lurching from one side of the booth to the other. I tripped on a cord on the floor and fell, bashing my head on the side of the booth as I went. That's all I remember before I blacked out.

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><p><strong>OOHHHHH, CLIFFEH! WHAT? <strong>

**Okay. Next chapter will be better. Most of you were probably bored reading this, but this was neccessary for the story, you know, seeing what kind of life Aimee has had in the past. Gosh, it feels weird calling her Aimee when MY NAME is Aimee, too... Oh, well.**

**PEACE, HOMEYS!**

**Loves,**

**Aims**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks, everyone who reviewed! I am so loving the reaction I got from this story:)**

**I'm going to try to be as informative as possible:) **

**Okay! Here we go, Chapter Dos!**

**Love ya! **

**-Aims**

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><p><span>3rd Person POV<span>

Four young men walked down the streets of London, dressed in suits and trench coats. They were laughing and horsing around, but keeping their voices low, as if they were trying to hide from someone. One had a newspaper and was intently reading, until a shorter lad with a large nose poked his cheek and made a remark, then he swatted his head with the newspaper. He laughed at the smaller man's face. The young fellows neared a line of telephone booths, still laughing and joking with each other.

One of the boys, unlike the other three, had noticed a young girl with unusual clothes lying curled up in the bottom of a telephone booth. He rushed over to the booth while calling, "Hey, lads! Over here!"

He reached the telephone booth and as he studied her face, he realized their was a small bump beginning to form on her head. The other boys caught up and the shorter one's eyes widened.

"What do you reckon happened to her?"

The first man gently brushed her hair out of her face to expose her bump. "Probably hit her head and passed out."

"What would make her hit her head?"

"I don't know. We won't leave her here, that's for sure. A young lady like her shouldn't be out in London alone."

The other boys agreed, and the young girl's rescuer picked her up gently and carried her back to the four boy's shared house.

These four boys were a band called 'The Beatles'. Little did they know, this young lady was going to change their lives forever. This girl's name was Aimee O'Hare.

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><p><span>Aimee's POV<span>

I woke to the feel of someone's hand running through my hair and another hand resting on my waist. Weird...

"Morning, love!" Came a soothing, gentle voice. Wait-Hadn't I heard this guy's voice before?

I looked into his face and realized something.

First, I was going to brutally _murder _my brother when I got back to my time.

Second, _I wasn't in my time!_

Third, this guy who's lap my head was in, and who's hands were wrapped in my tight auburn curls, was Paul _friggin _Mcartney.

"Uh, you..." I couldn't help it. I started stuttering. Who couldn't? I would like to know the person who _couldn't_ stutter when you wake up to Paul Mcartney's face. "You're..." I wasn't hypervetilating! Or screaming! So don't judge me!

"Paul Mcartney, yes." He laughed.

"Holy Moly. Holy _freaking_ Moly! This isn't possible!"

He smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, it is odd that you are in The Beatles' home, but-"

"No, no..." I shook my head and got up, ignoring the massive headache rolling around in my head. "I don't think you understand- I'm not supposed to be here."

"Well, I think everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?"

"It does," pipes up a voice from across the room. I recognized it as Ringo.

"No, not like-" I groaned, frustrated. "I am from the future!" I finally blurted. Way to go, Aims. Way to go. You probably just weirded out your idols. Good freaking job.

But the weird looks I was expecting was replaced by fits of hysterical laughter from Paul and Ringo.

"What?" I asked.

"That was good," Paul managed to gasp out between his laughter. "I actually thought you were serious for a second there!"

I frowned. "It's true! I _am _serious!"

He laughed even more. And so did Ringo. You know, I never realized how thoroughly _annoying _Ringo's laugh was until it was mocking me in my time of dire need.

"You gotta believe me!" Fat chance. They probably will kick me out, or report me to a therapeudic hospital or something.

"Alright, alright. You hit your head a little too hard, darling. S'alright, though. You're cute, so it doesn't matter."

Oh, heck no.

_Cute?_ So it doesn't _matter? _Who does he think he is?

Probably Paul Mcartney. Ladie's man and self-known charmer. Right.

"Listen here, _pal._" I rose from my sitting position, nearly straddling his lap, poked his chest, and got in his face as I spoke. All those emotions of desperation were immediately replaced by anger. You gotta remember, O'Hare temper! "I don't think you understand me. I don't care if you think I'm cute, I really don't give a crap! But you know what? When you emply that what I say doesn't _matter_, it's on. Got it?" He gulped and nodded nervously. "One more crack at making me seem like some useless _puppy_, who's only around for _looks,_ you're dead. I don't care _if _I'm only five foot two, or if you're Paul Mcartney. I will bring a _hurtin'_ on you. Capeche?" His eyes were wide as he nodded. I gave him a smug smile and got off him. He stared at me with big puppy eyes. I sighed.

"You may as well cut the puppy dog look, it doesn't work on me." So, I was lying. Sue me.

"_This_," he gestured to his still puppy-dog-looking eyes, "doesn't work on you?"

I shrugged and shook my head. Dang. Who knew I could be such a good actress?

"You're a first. Most of everyone falls for this look. I can't say I'm used to it, because most girls pass out from this and-"

"_Anyway,_" I rolled my eyes at his pouting. "I wish I had something to convince you guys I am from the future."

Ringo popped up from hiding. Ha! I made him hide from screaming at Mcartney!

He got up from behind the couch and sat down in it. "Maybe if you'd explain further, we might believe you..."

"Ringo, look at this face!" Paul interrupted. "Isn't it irresistable?" He made the face he was making earlier and Ringo raised his eyebrows.

"Well," he put on a thoughtful face, as if weighing the answers. "Most girls go ballistic when you do that, so it must be for the average girl, but maybe- what's your name?"

"Aimee O'Hare."

"Maybe Aimee is just different, eh?"

"Yeah! Like, my genius older brother made a teleportation device that is in the form of a telephone booth and tricked me into getting into it and going to the 1900's, but I didn't think it would work, and even if it did, I didn't realize I would be transported to England as well and somehow end up in the Beatles house miraculously, different?" I said in one breath. Paul and Ringo stared at me.

"What?"

"You talk fast."

"And you didn't miraculously get here," Ringo said. "Paul saw you and carried you back here."

Paul blushed slightly as I stared at him. This guy who I just exploded on? He saved me?

"Paul, is that true?" He glanced at me and nodded. I couldn't help what I did next. He was so cute, being all humble! I jumped at him and hugged him tightly. I felt him smile and hug me back eagerly. "Thank you , thank you, thank you! I don't know what would've happened had you not seen me! Some old guy could've saw me and-" I shook the thought out of my head. "Anyway, _thank you._ Really." I backed away and smiled gratefully. He looked into my eyes and I nearly died of a heart attack.

"Uh," I shrugged the feeling of... Whatever it was... Off, and remembered what that speech had been about. "Do you guys believe me?" Paul was looking at me weird, but Ringo nodded.

"I believe you."

I smiled nodded gratefully. I then looked at Paul.

"Do you believe me?"

Paul's POV

"Do you believe me?" She asked, though I didn't hear her.

This girl was gorgeous. Long, auburn curly hair, bright green eyes, tan-ish skin, and a few freckles. Her lips were full, but not too big. She was nearly perfect. When her head was lying in my lap, I fantasized what she would be like. Quiet, shy, and a big fan. That was my guess.

Boy, was I wrong.

This girl was opinionated, somewhat loud, and anything _but _shy. When I called her cute, I thought she would giggle and blush, but no. She _straddled my lap_, making it hard to concentrate, and basically made me feel like the smallest person alive. And then, the went and said my puppy dog look didn't work on her. What in the world? _All _the girls went crazy for that look! She just looked at me all bored like.

I swear, if George or Ringo, or -God forbid- _John_ win her over before I have a chance to revive myself, I'll go crazy. She totally belongs with me! Not only does she have the face of an angel, but her personality is so different from other girls.

But then there's this whole time travelling business. I'm pretty sure she couldn't make all that up about her genius brother and turning a telephone booth into a transportation... Thing... Whatever she called it, and plus, this is my chance to get her to like me.

Suddenly, I felt a light slap on the cheek.

"What? Huh?" I snapped out of my reverie.

"Do. You. Believe. Me...?" She asked me like I was a young child.

I nodded readily. "Absolutely."

Aimee's POV

Yay! Two Beatles on my side, now I have to wait for the other two.

"So what am I like in the future?" Ringo asks suddenly.

"Nope."

"Huh?"

"You are getting nothing outta me."

"Please?"

"No."

"Am I still alive?"

"Let's just say this: You might want to stop smoking and doing drugs..." Scare tactic. I have used this several times on the kids I babysit. He should be no different.

His eyes widened. "What year are you from, exactly?"

"2011."

"Oh," he frowned. "That's not a long way off."

"Avoid drugs and smoking at all costs."

He nodded eagerly. "Is that all?"

I shrugged. "Staying away from Barney would also help."

"Barney?" He scrunched his nose up. "Who's he?"

"Oh, you guys don't know him." Only then did I realize Paul staring at me. I turned to see him and he averted his gaze. Awkward...

Suddenly, George and John burst through the door with groceries. "Hey, we got-" George began, but John cut him off.

"The bird's up!"

Ringo eased out of his chair, seeing me glare daggars at John, and Paul winced. I let out a frustrated sigh and cleared my throat. "I'm not a bird..." I grumbled. John didn't hear me and came over to sit beside me. He put his arm around me and I gave him a bored look. Uninterested, buddy!

He didn't get the hint.

"So, what's your name?"

"Aimee."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Ah!" He smiled. "I'd introduce myself, but I believe you know who I am."

"Unfortunately, yes, I do know who you are."

He smiled and winked. "I like that. Feisty."

I rolled my eyes. "Let's get to the point. I'm from the future."

He jumped up and frowned. "_What?_"

Boo-freaking-yah.

I explained everything and George had made his way over to the living room and was sitting in a chair.

"I believe you," he said.

"Really?" I asked. He shrugged and nodded.

I turned to John and he sighed. "I suppose so."

I cheered and hugged John excitedly. I hardly ever hug. Why was I so huggy-like today? It was weird.

"So, where are you gonna sleep?" George asked.

"With me!" John waved his arm, excited.

"No." I said.

He pouted.

"You could sleep in my room..." Paul said.

I turned to him, and when I noticed his eyes were staying on my face and they didn't have that perverted look in them, I nodded.

"Sure."

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><p><strong>BO-RING chapter. Sorry about that. Just had to get that outta the way. Woot woot! What did you guys think? <strong>

**Review, if you would, sooner you review, sooner I update! Next chapter should have some Paul/Aimee. Heck ya!**

**Sorry this chapter isn't written well... Like, at _all_ but next chapter will hopefully be better.**

**Love,**

**Aims**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, hey, hey!**

**Yay! Paul/Aimee! :D This is going to be filled with fluff 'cause I want to write fluff badly.**

**Love yuns! **

**Aims.**

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><p><span>Aimee's POV<span>

"Sure," I said.

I tried to act all cool about it, but inside I was pretty much having a 4th of July fireworks show going on. I mean, I was _ecstatic_.

George cleared his throat. "So, what about your clothes?"

I looked down and noticed my outfit- I was still in my short-shorts and sweatshirt.

"Honestly, I _like _her outfit," John grinned.

"Perv," I muttered.

"Well, she can't just wear that all the time!" Ringo exclaimed.

"I don't have any money, though!" My eyes widened. What the crap? I had no money! I had no home! I had no _family _here! The only thing I had was The Beatles. Not that that's _bad _or anything. Heck, I'm not complaining. I get to share a room with Paul Mcartney!

I wasn't about to tell him that, though.

"S'alright," Ringo said. "We can get some clothes for ya. I mean, we are the Beatles."

I smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks, you guys. For everything."

They all nodded and my ears flooded with several, "You're welcome's," and "Our pleasure's."

Two hours later, Aimee's POV

"Give me that sweatshirt!" I shrieked, on Ringo's back. He had decided earlier it was a _lovely _idea to steal my sweatshirt.

No freaking way!

So here I am, on his back, and probably looking like an idiot, but I don't care. That sweatshirt is _comfy_. And I want it _back_.

"Give it, Richard Starkley!" He froze at the mention of his real name, but soon recovered, getting a mischeivious look on his face. He walked over to the couch and all but threw me onto the couch.

Then he tickled me.

He _tickled _me.

And lemme be the first to tell you, that kid can tickle.

I shrieked and batted his hands, but my pleas of mercy probably weren't all that convincing when I was laughing my face off.

"What was that?" He asked mockingly. I hate this guy! I absolutely hate him! How dare he tickle me? It's not fair!

"Sto- Rings-GAH-_Stop!_" I stuttered.

Paul entered the room and snuck up behind Ringo, putting a finger to his lips as he neared. Sneak attack! Heck, yeah!

Paul tackled Ringo and held him down so I could get to him. Little did Ringo know, I was freaking _amazing_ at tickling.

I tickled his sides and he squealed. I laughed at how high pitched his voice sounded, and soon toppled over from _my own _laughter. Paul let Ringo go and lie down on the ground, exausted. We all three lie there, breathing heavily. George walked in and raised an eyebrow. He didn't say anything, just went into the kitchen and got a glass of water. John came in next. He took one look at us, and then ran over to us, lying down as well.

"That one looks like a hippo!" He pointed at the ceiling, as if there were clouds.

"No, that looks like George," I laughed.

George poked his head out from the kitchen and frowned. "What's that?"

We all laughed and I yawned. I am _beat_.

"Are you tired?" Paul asked, looking over at me.

I nodded. "Time travelling is tiring." Everyone laughed.

"Alright. We're heading to bed, boys!" Paul got up and offered me a hand. I took it and brushed myself off. We walked into Paul's room and I realized something.

I was going to share a room with Paul Mcartney.

And maybe a _bed._

Paul glanced around and then grabbed a blanket on a chair. "Er, I'll sleep on the floor."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Er... Well... Because," he fumbled for words. "You're a girl."

I laughed. "Yes, Mcartney. Yes, I am."

He looked flustered. Swoon!

Snap out of it, O'Hare! He's not cute!

"I mean, we can't because... Well, it's..."

"It's okay, Paul. We're just sleeping in the same bed. Nothing else, right?" He blushed and looked away.

"I guess, yeah."

"Then there's no problem!"

3rd Person's POV

Paul changed into his pajamas as Aimee slipped into the bed. Paul came out and slipped in as well, seemingly having regained his confidence. He scooted closer to Aimee, and opened his arms. She looked at them.

"What?"

"I'm cold!"

"Okay..." She turned to face the wall.

He sighed. "Warm me up, please?"

She growled. "Absolutely not."

"Please?"

"You are about to lose your bed privileges."

"It's my bed!"

"What is with you and all these useless facts?" She turned to face him again. "First, I'm a girl. Obviously. Next, You said you're cold. It doesn't affect me! And now, you're saying this is your bed!" She shook her head. "That changes nothing. I'm still not giving you an excuse to hold me."

He sighed, frustrated. "Fine."

She turned around and sighed, finally going to get some sleep. However, she wasn't expecting to be pulled close to Paul.

"What the heck, Paul?" Her back was pressed tightly against his chest.

However, she got no reply. Instead, he pretended to be sleeping. She huffed and crossed her arms.

Aimee's POV

This guy, Paul Mcartney, was probably the most handsome dude I'd ever seen in my life.

That's why it was ridiculously hard to concentrate on going to sleep when his arm was wrapped tightly around me.

I was really excited that he wanted to hold me, but I wasn't about to let him know that. I could've easily gave him leave, but that would be no fun. And, plus, he would think I like him. Which, of course, is true, but letting him know that would only make his ego about agazillion times larger.

Then he did something that made my head spin and my heart nearly fly out my chest. He wrapped his arm tightly around me and pulled my body flush to his.

Holy Moly.

I should really be an actress. I honestly think I should. All I wanted to do at that point was kiss him, but no. I'm not about to fall all over him. However, I couldn't make myself push him away so I just stayed there.

This was going to be a long night.

Oh, sweet mother of all things bright and beautiful...

He's nuzzling my neck.

I felt his breath on my neck, tickling me and making me nearly giggle. But I don't giggle, so that's out of the question.

He is _so_ awake, and _totally _aware of what he's doing to me.

I moaned, but hopefully he caught it as a sleepy moan, and not a this-is-so-cruel-but-highly-attractive moan.

Like I said, this is going to be a long night.

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><p><strong>So? Heh? My first fluffy chapter. What do you think? I promise, Aimee will crack eventually, and when she does, I'll be happy 'cause DANG she is stubborn. <strong>

**Love,**

**Aims**

**Oh, yeah, and uhm... REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yo! Aimee here, and this is the next chapter! Already! I is on FI-YAH!**

**Yeah. Enjoy!**

**-Aims**

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><p><span>Aimee's POV<span>

I woke and felt even closer to Paul than before, if that was possible.

Oh yeah, and he was kissing my neck.

"GAH!" I screamed, not expecting his close proximity. He looked at me, startled. I scrambled to sit on the edge of the bed. The weird thing was, he was looking thoroughly _disappointed_ that I had left his arms.

"What?"

"What?" My eyes grew wide. "What? You were... You were kissing me!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Now who's stating useless facts?"

"This isn't useless!" I insisted. "You can't just go around _kissing _girls! You don't _do _that!"

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it," he said, smirking.

I gaped at this. How could he tell? _Of course _I enjoyed it! Paul Mcartney was _kissing _me!

He laughed. "See? You pretend that you don't like me, but we both know you really do." He shuffled closer and grabbed my hand.

"No, now... Hey, why don't we... Uhm... Go eat pancakes! Yeah! Or... Or waffles! Do you guys have a waffle house yet?" I got off the bed and started for the door before I felt him grab my arm and pull me back to him. Dude's crazy!

"Do you really want that?" He asked, leaning closer.

No.

"Yes. I really, truly want waffles. Yeah." I pushed him away and made a dash for the door. I glanced back at him before running into the living room.

He looked startled, like he thought I would just give in so easily!

_Bull crap!_

3rd Person POV

Aimee walked into the kitchen where George, John, and Ringo were up and eating breakfast.

"Morning!" She said happily.

"Good morning." Came the drowsy replies of the three Beatles.

"Morning." Paul said, walking out of he and Aimee's room.

"Morning."

Aimee grabbed a slice of bacon from a plate that was set in front of her and thought intently while chewing.

"Hey, guys?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that maybe all I have to do to go back is just find that telephone booth and figure out the buttons?"

"Makes sense," George said.

"But... Listen, kid, I don't want you to go..." Ringo pouted.

"Ringo, I can't stay here forever."

"You can too!"

"What about my family!"

"We could be your family!"

Aimee looked shocked at this. "Well..."

"Look," John said. "As long as you're here, whether you're planning on staying or going, you have a place for you to stay, food to eat, and clothes to wear. I don't mind if you want to stay." He looked at the others and they nodded. Paul's eyes stayed fixed on Aimee as she washed her empty plate and stuck it in the cabinet.

"I don't know. Let me think on it, okay?"

John nodded. "Alright. As for now, let's get you some more suitable clothing, yeah?"

"Ey, ey, cap'n!" She saluted and laughed.

Paul's POV

Her laugh.

Even her _laugh _is different.

It's light, and airy, but full and loud, all at the same time. It's beautiful, really.

What am I doing? I'm James Paul Mcartney. I don't chase after a girl. And if I do, it's never for long. Somehow, this girl has got me thinking about her all the time. I can't stop wondering what it would be like to hold her hand, or take a walk through town with her. I can't help but wonder what it would be like to have her as my own.

This morning, I kissed her, hoping she would return the feeling I held for her, and I think she did. I believe she's scared to fall in love.

The look of her being flustered and tongue tied over _me _only made me want her even more. I decided then that I had to fight for her. I'd somehow win her over, and that was that.

* * *

><p><span>Aimee's POV<span>

Just as a general rule, I hate shopping. Want to peeve me off? Take me shopping.

We entered the first clothing store and I grabbed some clothes my size, not even caring what they looked like, and made my way to the dressing room.

"She's fast!" I could hear Ringo say through the door.

I shoved on the first dress, which was a light green with a low, but modest, cut. It had a black belt just below the chest and flared out a little at the bottom. I began to take it off again, before I heard John holler through the door,

"Show us, then!"

I frowned and pulled the strap back on. I walked out and stood before the guys. Their mouth's were wide open and I sighed.

"Aims..." George stuttered. "You didn't tell us you were _this_ gorgeous!"

"Yeah! Who knew under that sweatshirt you were so... _Beautiful_!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Thanks..."

John gestured with his hand to make me spin and I clomped around in a circle. "Happy?" He nodded with a smile.

"You're gorgeous, love."

I smiled. "Thanks."

Paul's mouth was still wide open. Go figure. I walked over to him and closed his mouth for him. "You okay, bud?"

He nodded and shook out of his trance.

I walked back into the dressing room and tried on a few other outfits, all with similar styles. I grabbed the dresses and walked out of the dressing room, dumping the dresses in John's waiting arms. He got the dresses for free, because, of course, he's a Beatle.

I then changed into a blue dress with thin straps, and it was tight just below the chest. It was surprisingly comfortable, unlike the dresses in 2011.

We walked out of the store and I jumped up and down like a mexican jumping bean. "I'm free!"

"From?" Ringo furrowed his brow, confused.

"Shopping! I hate it." I stopped jumping. "Now that I'm done, I'm really happy."

"Most girls love shopping, though, don't they?" George asked.

"Most. I hate it, though."

"Why?" Paul asked.

"Because. I don't want to go try on clothes for hours on end, just to wind up with some new things to wear. It's stupid! I mean, I like to look good, don't get me wrong, but clothes don't make a person."

We walked on, talking about various things, until Brian Epstein, the Beatles manager, ran to the others.

"Boys!" He caught up and panted for breath. "Boys, you have to get to the studio. We have to record some songs."

They nodded and then Brian noticed me. "Who's she? John...?"

Ha! As if! I would never date John, he's too crazy for me.

John sighed and shook his head. "Actually, she's Paul's. Or, he wants her to be." He said bluntly.

I felt my cheeks heat up. Paul looked over at me, winking. The cheek!

"Oh... Well, she can come along, I have no time to find her a babysitter, I-"

"'Scuse me?" I felt my temper rising. "I'm not a child, you know, I might be short, but that doesn't mean-" My voice was muffled because George put his hand on my mouth to keep me from speaking.

"Alright, then," Brian continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Let's get going."

3rd Person POV

The Beatles, accompanied by their newly dressed lady friend Aimee, and their fidgety manager Brian, entered the recording studio. Aimee sat in the room with Brian and the producer, while the other boys went into the recording booth, going off about different flavors of pie.

They recorded several different songs, and then the producer thanked them. Everyone left the recording booth except for Paul, who gestured for Aimee to enter the recording booth with him. She sighed and walked in.

Aimee's POV

I walked into the recording booth and saw Paul's sly smile. Oh, crap...

"Sit, please." He patted the chair next to him and I sat in it.

He began to play his guitar and I could feel my cheeks heating. Then he began to sing.

_I should have known better with a girl like you_  
><em>That I would love everything that you do<em>  
><em>And I do, hey, hey, hey, and I do.<em>  
><em>Whoa, whoa, I never realized what a kiss could be<em>  
><em>This could only happen to me; <em>  
><em>Can't you see, can't you see?<em>  
><em>That when I tell you that I love you, oh,<em>  
><em>You're gonna say you love me too, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, oh,<em>  
><em>And when I ask you to be mine, <em>  
><em>You're gonna say you love me too.<em> 

I'm _what?_ I'm going to say I love him too? Since when did we decide this? I didn't say anything about loving him. It sure didn't seem like I was getting much of a choice in this matter. He continued singing, and I'll bet he thought he was the sweetest guy on earth.

Lies!

_So, I should have realized a lot of things before_  
><em>If this is love you've gotta give me more<em>  
><em>Give me more, hey hey hey, give me more<em>

More? More _what_, exactly? If he is talking about inappropriate topics, I should punch his lights out. I felt my blood boil, and I got up. He slowed his playing and I stomped out.

"Aimee!" I heard him call.

No. He was going to have to wait before I let him off the hook. I _still _don't care if he's Paul Mcartney.

I raced to catch up with the other guys and Ringo looked at me, noticing my sour mood.

"You alright?"

I gave him a look.

"Obviously not," George said.

"What happened?"

"Paul _stupid _Mcartney."

"Huh?"

"Paul sang your song, 'I Should Have Known Better', or whatever it is, and was going on about how I was gonna say I loved him and I was gonna give him more, whatever that means, and didn't realize what was wrong."

George laughed and Ringo looked about ready to.

"What?"

"You're overreacting." George tried to stop laughing.

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are," Ringo said softly. "Paul is really infatuated by you. You should give him a chance."

"And why should I?" I asked, stubbornly. "I'm just this week's object of affection, next week it'll be some other girl."

"You're different."

"How so?"

"He has never gone after a girl this long."

"It's been a day, Rings."

"Yeah, but still." He shrugged.

"I doubt he really cares." I said, trying not to show my disappointment.

"Oh, he does."

I scoffed. "If he _cared, _he wouldn't have sang that song about me being desperate."

"He wasn't singing that to make you seem 'desperate'. He was singing it to show you what he _hopes _could happen between you two."

I stared at Ringo. Since when did he become so knowledgable? "This is so confusing."

"No, love. You're making it confusing."

I glared at him and he shrugged. "When did my life become so full of drama?"

He smiled and slung an arm around my shoulders. "You'll figure it out, kiddo." George looked at us and realized we were having a 'brother, sister' moment and took off claiming he had to go find John.

I sighed. I then got a pang of home sickness. Rilee and Ringo were so much alike. I missed Riles and his crazy inventions. I missed him always teasing me.

Suddenly, the problems with Paul were replaced with a voice in my head saying, '_Go home..._'

"I want to go home." I said out loud. Ringo dropped his arm from around me.

"What?"

"I want to go home. I miss my brother, I miss my dad, I miss my best friends..." I rambled on and Ringo scowled. "Please, Ringo. You have to help me get back home."

He frowned. "I don't want you to go."

"I know, trust me, if there was some way I could have both ways, I would! But I can't do that. I want to-" I took a breath in and slowed my fast paced speaking. "I _have _to go home."

He nodded. "Alright. But only 'cause I love ya, kid."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me out by the telephone booths.

"This is where it was."

I searched the telephone booths, looking for the one that had buttons and gadgets. I finally found it and turned to face Ringo. He looked as if he were trying not to cry.

"Rings..." I tried to blink back tears, but they fell anyway.

I felt so bad. And not only was I responsible for his heartbreak, but I was for mine as well. In such a short amount of time, I had grown to love these guys. I felt, now that I was going home, like when I said goodbye to my mom. I'd never get to see them again.

"Ringo, I'm going to miss you so much."

He nodded and sniffed. "I'll miss you too. So will the other guys. Especially Paul."

That's another thing. I felt awful for just leaving Paul sitting there. I hated that I couldn't tell him what I really felt. Then again, why _couldn't _I tell him how I felt?

It doesn't matter anymore, I told myself.

"Bye Rings..." I hugged him tightly.

He hugged back. "Take care, kiddo."

I pulled away and stepped inside the telephone booth, punching in '2011' and hitting the big green 'Go' button.

I felt another earthquake, and bashed my head -_once a freaking gain_- and everything went pitch black.

Goodbye, 1964... I hope I made the right choice.


	5. Chapter 5

**I know! I'm such a bad person for doing a cliffy on you guys! But I had too, it was right there...**

**Okay, chaptero quatro! Only a few more chapters, then moving to the sequel! Ideas are welcomed and loved. Also, reviews would be nice! Thanks!**

**-Aims**

* * *

><p><span>Aimee's POV<span>

I'm back! (Insert smiley face/frowney face.) Not sure whether to be happy or sad. I mean, I could've just made the biggest mistake of my life. Then again, I'm glad to see Rilee jumping up and down happily.

"Aims!" He flung open the telephone booth's door and helped me off the floor. I rubbed the spot on my head that was once again throbbing in pain. "Why are you wearing that? Where did you go? Who did you meet? Was the machine easy to operate?"

I closed my eyes. "I am wearing this because we went shopping, I went to London, I met The Beatles, and yes the machine was surprisingly easy to use." I frowned when I thought of Paul, and how things could have went if I had given him a chance.

"Aimee?" My three best friends, who I had met at a college consultation a day after moving here, scampered down the basement stairs and landed in a heap in front of me.

"Hey, guys." I sighed, still thinking about Paul. This wasn't fair.

"Who'd you meet?" Lynlee Jones, my blond headed short-person buddy asked. Lynlee and I, the shortest of us four, looked nothing alike, minus our height. Lynlee had platinum blond hair, which she straightened almost all the time, and big brown eyes. Her normal looking nose was what made me angry, though. Mine was a small, button nose. I was always called 'cute', but everyone called Lynlee 'gorgeous'. Not that I care, or anything. It's just frustrating, because she doesn't look like a little girl, even though she is as short as one. Most people who guess my age, guess 12. Not fun.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're face. It looks like you're some love sick puppy." I ignored Rilee's scowling from the corner of my eye.

I frowned. "No one."

"What are you wearing?"

"A dress," I said, not wanting to go in depth.

"What's this?" Melanie 'Mo' Davis shouted, poking the telephone machine. Mo was short, but not as short as Lynlee and I. She was about five feet and three inches. She had _jet black_ hair and it was stick straight, even though she didn't flat iron it. She had absolutely no curves, but that's okay, because her looks fit her personality. Her rich, blue eyes were her best feature, if you ask me. Those things were so deep, it was like she could see right through you. Scary, sometimes, mainly when she's angry.

"A teleportation device, don't touch it!" Rilee got all protective and put himself between Mo and the contraption.

"A what?" Prudence Meyers asked, suddenly interested. I'll tell you what, I hate her for her name. It's awesome. _And_ I hate her for her long, loose, curly red hair. How unfair is that? Everyone knows how awesome red hair is. Her bright, baby blue eyes were really pretty, and a few shades lighter than Mo's. She was the tallest of all of us, but not by much. She was probably around five feet and five inches. Lucky duck.

"Yeah!" I said excitedly. Then I immediately got sad again, after seeing Paul's face pop up in my head. "Too bad we can't go back."

My brother shot me a weird look. "Yeah, we can."

Hold on.

I can time hop?

Why was this not in the owner's manual?

"Explain!" I pointed a finger at Rilee. He backed up from my finger and said slowly,

"You can go back in time as much as you want."

"_What?_ So I just had my heart broken and got separated from a guy I most definitely could have had a future with, and had to say goodbye to some amazing people, the likes of which I have never seen before, and you, Mr. Genius Face, now tell me this thing is REUSEABLE?" I fumed.

"First off, A GUY? Second, you're such a drama queen. Thridly, yes, that's what the situation appears to be." He said.

"I hate you." I said, then thought for a second. "No, I take it back, I love you. Furthermore, GO TO 1964, NOW, BIG BROTHER!" I hopped into the telephone booth and drug my friends with me. Rilee got in after us, and we were all squished together.

"Go, my best friends genius older brother, go onward!" Mo shouted.

"Commencing onward-ness!" Rilee laughed, and mocked Mo with her always-over-excited voice.

He punched in 1964 and pressed the big green 'Go' button.

* * *

><p><span>Aimee's POV<span>

We arrived in London and I smiled. "It's good to be back..."

"Pip, pip, cheerio!" Prudence shouted.

"I say!" Lynlee muttered in a fake liverpoolian accent.

"Slap it on a tea bisuit!" Mo blurted.

We all stared at her. Slap it on a biscuit? Wow. Leave it to Mo.

"Sorry, I couldn't think of anything else."

"Anyways, let's get over to The Beatles house."

"THE BEATLES?" My friends screamed.

"Uh, yeah..." Prudence and Lynlee bursted into rants of how hot they were, how amazing their music was, and how funny they were in their movies. Mo raised her eyebrows and glanced over at me. I shrugged. Mo was alot like me, in the fact that, while we were fans of the Beatles, we weren't the screaming fan girl type.

"HEY!" Rilee screamed, then whistled a ear-drum busting whistle. My friends glared at him. "Aims, to The Beatles home, You three, follow her!" He ordered.

"Sir, yessir!" We saluted, then made our way to The Beatles home.

When we arrived, I knocked on the door. George answered and his small eyes nearly flew out of his head when he saw me. He rushed forward and picked me up in a back breaking hug.

"Aimee, Aimee, Aimee!"

I awkwardly patted his back.

"Nice to see you too, George."

Prudence stood there, gaping at George, her favorite beatle. I sighed when she poked me in the back. "I'll introduce him to you later." I muttered. I heard her groan quietly.

"We've missed you so much, mainly Paul. He won't stop talking about you and won't stop blaming himself for you leaving."

"How long's it been since I've been here?" I asked, ignoring that bit about Paul. And plus, I thought it had only been a few minutes...

"A few months." He shrugged.

"Who're these people?" He peeked around my shoulder.

"I'll introduce you when we have everyone together."

He nodded and backed away from the door to let us in.

George walked us into the living room, where John and Ringo were.

"Hey guys, look who came by."

Ringo looked up and as soon as he saw me, he jumped up and picked me up in a hug. I laughed and patted his head.

"Yo, Ringlsley."

"I missed you so much, Aimee!"

John was next. He came up to me and gave me a small hug.

"We missed you, Aims. Glad you're back."

Then he saw my friends behind me, so he pushed me aside and tried to be all smooth, mainly concentrating on Lynlee, who was flirting right back.

"What's your name, gorgeous?"

I rolled my eyes and then turned to Ringo, giving him a questioning look. He jerked his head back to the room Paul and I had shared. I nodded and slipped away, sneaking through the halls and peaking through the crack in the door.

Paul was sitting there, hair messy and papers surrounding him, with his guitar propped up on his lap. I neared him and cleared my throat.

Paul's POV

I couldn't get a single song to come out of me since she left. I was trying to write a song to express my feelings for her, but so far I had nothing.

I frowned as I scratched out another line. I strummed a chord and hummed a tune. No, that wouldn't work...

Then I heard someone clear their throat. I turned around, ready to let out at John again for disturbing my song writing.

"Hey Paul." I recognized that voice. That was Aimee O'Hare. I caught sight of her standing there, dressed in the same dress I saw her in right before she left.

"Hi," I replied, my voice hoarse.

"I'm back," she smiled shyly and drug her toe around on the ground in front of her. "Oh, wait. I'm such a hypocrite. That was useless information.." She palmed her face and I smiled.

"That's not useless." I said.

Aimee's POV

Paul was so sweet. How had I not noticed this?

I walked over to him and sat on the bed.

"I missed you, Aims," Paul said quietly.

"I missed you too." More than you could ever know!

"So, are you staying, then?" He looked up at me, hope evident in his eyes.

"I think so," I said, trying to contain my excitement. I couldn't leave these guys again, no way!

"That's great!" He said, giving me a big hug. I closed my eyes, trying to savor the moment.

"Look, Paul, I think I owe you an apology..." I said the last word quietly, so he couldn't barely hear it.

"What?"

"I owe you an apology..." I said the last word just a tad louder, but still quiet.

"I can't hear you, love."

"I'M SORRY!" I yelled. He smiled. "I'm sorry I left right after you sang to me, it was really sweet, I just didn't like the whole idea of you _telling_ me I was going to love you, and basically making it to where I wasn't going to get a _say _in it, and-" I stopped, realizing I was rambling. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you." He looked at me intently. Dang. Forgive and forget, much? He kept staring, and I began to feel a little weird, his gaze never leaving my face.

"What?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Do you think... Maybe, possibly..." He lowered his eyes. "Do you think you might want to start over?"

I'm gonna tell you right now, it took about three seconds to ponder this before I blurted out my answer.

"Absolutely."

He smiled and got off his bed, motioning for me to do the same. I got up and he offered me his hand. "Hello, miss, I'm James Paul Mcartney, but call me Paul. Who might you be?"

I shook his outstretched hand and played along. "Aimee O'Hare. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

He smiled. "The pleasure is all mine." He winked and I almost -_almost,_ mind you- swooned. He then offered me his arm. "Shall we join the others, then, Miss Aimee O'Hare?"

I smiled and took his arm. "Why, certainly, Mr. James Paul Mcartney." We skipped down the hall, and guess who was waiting at the end of it, hands on hips?

None other than my brother, Rilee.

Who hated seeing me in the presence of any boy, much less skipping happily with them.

He scowled at Paul and then turned to me. "Where were you?"

I laughed and let go of Paul's arm, so as to save him from future injury, which would be issued by my six foot tall brother. "Well, big brother, we were meeting each other for the second-first time."

He looked at me funny and I smiled innocently.

"Okay, anyways, have you all met, then?" I asked the others, desperate to change the subject. Rilee was so over-protective at times.

Mo shook her head. Lynlee was too busy flirting to care, and Prudence was giving me a desperate look.

"Alright! That black haired beauty is Mo," I pointed at Mo. "And that one over there flirting is Lynlee," I gestured to Lynlee, who still didn't care. "And then this red haired chick is Prudence," I nodded over at Prudence and then turned to my older brother. "And this is my older brother, Rilee." I slapped Rilee on the back. "You guys know The Beatles." I shot a look at said boys. "Now mingle, you two." I gave a stern glare towards Prudence and Mo, who were standing around looking stupid.

While Rilee was occupied, what with giving John the death stare and all, I grabbed Paul's hand and told Ringo we were headed to the park... And I may or may not have told him that he was Mo's favorite Beatle...

Hey, check it, I'm cupid!

Paul and I slipped out the door, hopefully about to get to know each other better, and not have to watch out for Rilee and his bird-like watchful eyes.

...Hopefully.

Man, it really _is_ good to be back!

* * *

><p><strong>What a <em>turnball,<em> Zach! (Olan Rogers refrence? Thanks Sarah, for introducing me to him... Evil one...)**

**TWO CHAPTERS LEFT! Then to the sequel.**

**Heck. Freaking. Yes.**

**BOOOOOOOYAAAAHHHH!**

**REVIEW!**

**-Aims**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yeah, boy! Almost done! **

**But fear not, faithful reviewers! A sequel shall be making it's debut here soon after this story is finished.**

**Loves,**

**Aims**

* * *

><p><span>Aimee's POV<span>

Paul and I walked outside, and I let go of his hand, trying not to blush when he held on.

"So, tell me about yourself." Paul looked over at me.

"Okay, I am nineteen. You knew that. My favorite animal is Clifford, because he is a big red dog, my favorite color is blue, I hate giggling, my favorite food is Asian stir fry, my favorite band is... You don't need to know that, and I have a dad and a brother." I let out in one large breath.

"What happened to you're mum?"

Crap. I was hoping he wouldn't say that. "Uh, she died..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he stopped and put an arm on my shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" I looked away. I don't want to have to look in his eyes. He could see right through me, he's just that kind of person.

"No."

"You sure?"

I didn't want to cry. I had been doing so good! Not crying, holding it in. But around Paul, I felt like I could be weak, just for a little while, and he would be strong for me. I sniffed and averted my gaze to the ground. He lifted my chin and stared into my eyes.

* * *

><p><span>3rd Person POV<span>

"I'm right here, listening," Paul whispered.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. "Alright."

The couple moved to a nearby bench and Aimee took in a breath. "It was just like every other day."

**FLASHBACK**

_Aimee and her mother got into the car, Mrs. O'Hare in the drivers seat, and Aimee, her youngest child, in the back, right behind the passenger seat. Aimee reached forward and turned on the radio. _

_"Mom, it's your favorite song!" She yelled, singing along to 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' by the Beatles._

_Mother and daughter sang along to the music, but Mrs. O'Hare still kept her eyes glued to the road. They stopped at the turn to go to the local grocery store. Mrs. O'Hare nearly had to come out of her seat to look both ways, with her height being as short as it was. Her shoulder length, curly auburn hair grazed the steering wheel as she sat back down, and she turned the corner slowly. Her oldest son, Rilee, always said she was so careful, it hurt to watch her drive, but she always scolded him that he was just being to careless. In truth, she just wanted her kids to be safe when she was driving. She loved her kids more than anything, and would hate to be the one that hurt them._

_As they pulled out and onto the main road, a big four door pickup truck that was going way too fast smashed into the O'Hare's small Accent car. _

_Mrs. O'Hare blacked out instantly, and cuts ran across her beautiful face and blood stained her white blouse and jeans. _

_Aimee, however, was concious, having been in the opposite side the car got hit. She felt her face for cuts, and, though she wouldn't admit it, to see if she was still alive. She noticed a small gash on her forehead just as the drunken man slammed his truck's door shut. Aimee looked out the now bent in window, and slipped from her seat to squat down in the floor of the car. She chanced a glance towards the man, and saw that he held a pistol in his bruised right hand. She forced herself not to cry and stuck her head back to where it couldn't be seen._

_She waited for the inevitable gun shot._

_She waited._

_And waited._

_And waited._

_Then, she heard it. She waited for a few moments to feel the pain she was sure she would feel. When she realized she herself hadn't been shot, panic shot through her and she frantically looked at her mother. Her mother had no bullet holes. She looked over at the man, and she saw him._

_On the ground._

_Her eyes widened as she saw the man lying on the dark, paved road, with a distinct hole in his temple. She placed a shaky hand on her mouth to silence a scream._

_Then, she heard the sirens. _

_Three police cars, a firetruck, and two ambulances surrounded the area._

_Two police officers, one dark skinned and the other fair complected, focused on getting the only concious one out first, while a young paramedic checked the man lying on the ground for a pulse. _

_The police officers opened the car for both of the women to be lifted out, and no one said anything. Everyone went about their work quietly. _

_The darker man lifted the younger girl out, and noted her bravery. Her gaze never left her mother, who was being put in an ambulance, but she wasn't crying. He asked her if she was alright first, and she nodded. He then asked if she had seen anything, and she paused before nodding again. Though she was brave, he could tell she was absolutely terrified, so he left her be for the time being. She asked if she could go with her mother to the hospital, and he complied. She then headed for the ambulance, then, turning back, she smiled._

_"Thank you."_

**END OF FLASHBACK**

By this time, Paul was holding Aimee tightly, and letting her tears soak his shirt. He stroked her hair and shushed her softly, waiting for her tears to subside. When she stopped, she pulled back.

"Sorry," she laughed, wiping her tears. "I probably looked really stupid, crying like that."

"No, you didn't. It's normal to cry." He brushed a strand of hair from her beautiful face and smiled. "You are a very brave girl."

She smiled and hugged him again. "Thanks, Paul. For everything."

Suddenly, a young man hurled himself at Paul, knocking him from the bench and landing on top of him. Aimee turned around and noticed an apologetic looking Ringo and Mo, who had a knowing look on her face.

Aimee's POV

So, here I was, having a really great talk with Paul, when my FREAKING BROTHER tackles him!

"Get off my sister, you child molester!" Rilee punched Paul in the face as he pushed him to the ground.

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about!" Paul pleaded, trying to guard his face from Rilee's furious fists. I looked over at Ringo and Mo, who were just now reaching the scene. Ringo looked a mixture of confused and apologetic, while Mo was full out looking like she was used to this. Which, she probably was. Rilee _hated _seeing me with guys. That's why when I go over to Mo's, he has to be sure her older brother isn't there before giving me 'permission' to go.

"RILEE JONAH O'HARE, GET OFF PAUL RIGHT THIS INSTANT!" I screamed. Rilee looked up at me, obviously scared. Yeah, he definitely knew that tone. That voice either meant I was extremely annoyed, or ready to kill someone. It was a little of both at this point.

Rilee scrambled off of Paul. I knelt beside Paul and checked his bleeding lip. It looked fine, he wasn't dying or anything, so I decided it was safe to make Rilee fear for his life.

"What do you think you were doing?" I yelled.

"He... He was..." He stuttered, before looking over at Paul's face and his face showed a fresh burst of anger. "Child molester!" He pointed at Paul.

"First- I AM NOT A FREAKING CHILD! I AM NINETEEN YEARS OLD, AND IT IS TIME YOU START TREATING ME LIKE ONE!" I screamed, smacking him in the head. "AND ANOTHER THING, PAUL WAS COMFORTING ME! I LIKE HIM, AND HE'S A REALLY SWEET GUY! HE WAS NOT MOLESTING ME!

Realization dawned on his face. "Ah..."

"Yes, you _idiot!_"

"How was I supposed to know?" He yelled.

"Your first clue? WE WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PARK!"

By this time, Ringo was hiding behind the abandoned park bench and Paul was staring with wide eyes at me, while Mo was trying to climb a tree.

"But... But..." Rilee stuttered.

"Riles, I appreciate your concern, but I'm getting older, and you have to accept that." I sighed.

He shook his head. "But, you're still young!"

"Not much younger than you!"

"But still-"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't hang out with Paul, or any other decent guy."

"They probably really aren't decent, and just want to-"

"OKAY!" I shouted, covering my ears, so I wouldn't have to listen to what he was about to say. "I highly doubt _all _guys are like that."

"I'm not!" Ringo raised his hand from his post behind the park bench.

"Besides, who I date is my business!" I said, ignoring Ringo. "You should be able to trust my judgement."

Rilee gave me a begrudging look. "You're right," he mumbled.

"Say it again?"

"You're right."

"Once more, just for good measure."

"YOU'RE RIGHT!"

"Oh yes, BYSTANDERS, THIS IS A DAY THAT HATH BEEN MARKED IN THE O'HARE HISTORY BOOKS! I, AIMEE O'HARE, WAS RIGHT AND RILEE O'HARE WAS WRONG!" I danced around Rilee while I said this and came up with a song to show my happiness. "In your FACE, Riles!"

He grunted and stomped off, leaving me, Paul, Ringo, and Mo.

I turned around and saw Paul, who was staring, mouth agape, at me. "What?"

"You... How can someone so _small _be so _loud_? I mean, I knew you were intimidating, but that was... How?"

I smiled. "It's a gift!"

"It's true!" Mo jumped down from the tall tree and landed on her feet. "She is really loud. At the college consultation, the bullhorn was broken and everyone was talking, so Aimee yelled at them to shut up and sit their butts on the floor, with their hands under their legs. Everyone was sitting and quiet before she was done talking."

Ringo was now sitting on the bench and drumming his fingers on the back of it. "That's talent."

"True dat," Mo nodded.

"You okay?" I asked Paul, who was staring at me with... What was it? Amazement? Adoration? Respect?

"Yeah, just... Wow."

I laughed and helped him off the ground.

"So... You really like me and think I'm sweet?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"No." I lied.

"That's what you said..."

"I was lying."

"Sounded pretty convincing to me..."

"Shaddup, Mcartney." I started towards the Beatle's home.

"Admit it, you like me!" He trailed after me.

"No, I don't."

"You're in denial!"

"You're an idiot!"

"But you like me!"

"No, actually, I..."

3rd Person's POV

Aimee and Paul were arguing as they headed in the opposite direction of which they came, and Mo had made her way over to Ringo, who was sitting on the bench.

"Hi," Mo said.

"Hey, it's Mo... Isn't it?"

"Yeah," she smiled.

"What's it short for?"

"Melanie. My full name is Melanie Davis."

"Gear. Honestly, I think Mo fits you better."

"Thanks!"

"So, you're from the future too?"

"Yeah! But, I like it here better."

"And why is that?"

"Well, it's not near as boring."

He chuckled at this.

"...And of course, there's the Beatles here."

He looked at her, startled. "You're a fan?"

"Of course," she nodded enthusiastically.

"Could have fooled me! Though, I was told by a little birdie that I'm your favorite..." He gave her a suggestive look.

"What?" She gave him a incrediculous look. "Psh!" She waved her hand. "Psh! I'm more of a George girl!"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's too bad. I really liked you, myself."

"Did I say George? I meant to say, I'm _such _a Ringo Starr fan!" She smiled her most charming smile and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously.

So, the two chatted together, while Paul and Aimee trailed back to the house, still arguing about whether Aimee like Paul or not, and Rilee watched them near the door through the blinds on the window, fuming.

All seemed right again.

* * *

><p><strong>Not my best ending, but whatever. ONE CHAPTER LEFT!<strong>

**Then the sequel. You guys are so awesome! Review, please and cheese!**

**-Aims**


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